


Home

by therearenousernameleft



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, Godswood, This just has the Godswood, how is the premiere still so far?, today I found out that there is a tag Godswood sex, unfortunately, well...., yet another reunion fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 13:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18223895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therearenousernameleft/pseuds/therearenousernameleft
Summary: Moments between Arya and Gendry in the Godswood.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing except my mistakes (probably too many of those). All the characters belong to the person who gave us the ASOIAF series, G.R.R.M.

**Home**

**I**

She let the cold wind blowing through the Godswood soothe her. Apart from the crypts, Godswood seemed to be the only place that calmed her. She listened to the quiet murmur of leaves; it felt like they were speaking to each other or trying to tell her something and for the first time she had no clue what. She visited the Godswood every time she felt at a crossroad, and there was always a sense of clarity after that, but not today. Not today.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes; once again, his face flashed in her mind’s eye. She let out a frustrated breath. She had thought he was dead, and she had tried her best to make peace with it. Maybe once or twice a tiny light of hope flickered inside her, but she squashed it every time. What had hope ever brought her? Dead parents. Dead siblings. She had given up on hope long before and look at her life now, those tiny hopes were becoming full-fledged realities, and here she was hiding in the Godswood. She should be happy. She was back at Winterfell; Jon was here, Sansa was here, Bran was here.

_He is here._

Then what was this painful sensation in her chest. Happiness wasn’t supposed to hurt, was it? Happiness wasn’t supposed to twist your heart painfully in your chest; happiness wasn’t supposed to make you start crying and never stop. What was it then?

She let out a self-deprecating laugh. She had felt broken many times but not so much that she didn’t understand what was going on with her. Maybe she was healing. It works like that on wounds, didn’t it? At first, it hurts; then it hurts some more; then a faint itch begins, and a new skin begins to cover the wound. Not as flawless as before, but healed, nonetheless.

She had gone through so many emotions in such a short span that her mind felt like a disorganized mess. The happiness of seeing Jon; she had hugged him so hard that she was certain she must have hurt him. Emotions that she had kept bottled in for so long finally broke free, and she didn’t care. At that moment all that mattered was that she was home. She was at Winterfell. Jon, Sansa and Bran were here with her.

That’s when her gaze fell upon him. She had gone still in Jon’s arms. Her heart hammered in her chest as she looked at him; wanted him to be a ghost of her memories; wanted him to be real. Of all the places she may have dreamt of running into him again, Winterfell was definitely not one of them. She didn’t know what happened or who moved first, but suddenly they were closer.

For the first time in years, she was face to face with Gendry. His name fell from lips before she could stop herself. She saw his eyes flutter close like he wasn’t sure he would hear her say his name again. Like her voice was the first drops of rain he had after a long drought. She felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes welling up yet again. Then he had called her M’lady, and she had let out a startled laugh, all the memories flooding her.

That would have been it if she hadn’t seen the way Jon looked at them. Curious; like he had no idea what was going on, and that only meant that Gendry had never talked about her. Her world started to shake bit by bit. She thought she meant something to him as he had meant to her, but as it turned out she was wrong. She wanted to run away, but she didn’t; she won’t. She schooled her features back to indifference and observed the way his face fell after he noticed the change in her demeanor, but he didn’t talk to her, or even tried to talk to her, after that.

And now here she was in the Godswood, trying to get a semblance of control. Trying not to let everything get to her.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Gendry said softly.

She stiffened slightly, she didn’t know why. She wasn’t trying to do it on purpose, and yet every time she heard his voice, her mind went back to their last conversation. She knew what he had been trying to say, but even after all this time it still felt like a wound that never fully healed. He had been the first person she opened her heart to; the person she wanted to be in her pack. She felt emotions welling up inside her. She closed her eyes and chided herself, reminding herself that those days were long past; that they were not they used to be; that the times are not what they used to be, and she felt some of the frustration seep away, but the low kindling of rage was still alight in her.

“Who told you?” She asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“You did.” He answered. There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

A memory rose up in her mind.

_They were looking for food, and she was telling him about Winterfell. It felt nice talking to someone about Winterfell; she felt more and more like herself in these moments than most days. He never said anything except a few questions here and there like he was genuinely interested in knowing about her home, knowing about the things that made her happy. She was telling him about the Godswood, and he sounded slightly impressed, slightly awed when she described it to him, and she felt something inside her settle._

She whirled around to face him, her anger flaring up anew. “So, you do remember that we used to know each other.”

He looked away. “How could I forget?”

She scoffed. “Judging by the look on Jon’s face when he saw us, it was pretty clear that you did.”

His gaze flicked back to her. “Arya- “

One look at his face and she felt her anger diminish. He looked sad, tired. Everything she wanted to say died on her lips. It didn’t matter now, did it?

“It’s fine.” She said, sounding tired herself. This day had been more emotionally draining than she would have thought. “I’m certain you had your reasons.” The next words she added were barely a whisper, but in the silence of the Godswood, they seemed to resonate. “You always did.”

Gendry closed his eyes, looking defeated. There it was again the dull throb in her chest. She didn’t want to see him like this, and yet she didn’t know what to say. It felt like a lifetime since they had been within each other’s reach. She waited for him to say something, anything really, but he didn’t. Dejected she started to walk away.

“I thought you were dead.” The grief in his voice stopped her in her tracks. “I thought you were dead. I wanted to tell him, I tried, but I couldn’t. I thought I had lost you, and I remembered how much you loved your brother, all I wanted was- I couldn’t save you, but I could help him any way I can.”

She turned to face him; her heart clenched seeing the raw guilt in his eyes. She moved closer to him. She didn’t know what she should say; all she wanted was… all she wanted was her bull-headed bastard boy back, and now here he was.

“We are here now.” She moved even closer to stand in front of him; taking his hand in hers.

He looked at their joined hands for a moment like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Finally, a small smile crept up on his lips as their fingers intertwined, and she found herself smiling back.

“We are here now.”

 

**II**

The Godswood was submerged in the golden glow of the fire that surrounded them. The fire still hasn’t reached the Godswood but it would soon, and not soon after there would be nothing more than ashes left. That was what would be left of Winterfell if- no, when they returned. Because they will come back. They just got their home back; they will not lose it again.

“Arya,” Gendry said carefully, trying not to startle her. Her blood still sang from the fight. Her haunches were still up, ever since she fought the wights in the crypts. She didn’t think she would stop shaking; she doesn’t think she has. “You are bleeding.”

Her face felt warm; she had thought it was because of the heat from the fire and the fight. Her hand lifted to touch it, making her wince slightly. It was starting to freeze now, it was sticky, and the metallic smell of her blood filled her nostrils. “I’m fine.”

“No, you are not,” Gendry replied. “None of us are, Arya.”

The cold wind blew through the Godswood, and she closed her eyes as she felt the sharp sting of pain.

“Arya, let Sam apply something on it,” Gendry said, concerned. Hearing the concern in his voice made her want to cry, it made her want to scream. She wanted to be alone. She never wanted to be alone again.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she almost jumped. He drew back immediately. She missed the warm comfort as soon as he dropped his hand, but she didn’t say anything. Didn’t know if she could.

“We will be leaving soon. Jon asked me to find you. He is very worried. If it wasn’t for the Queen and Lady Sansa holding him down to get his wound treated, he would have been here.”

She felt a tear roll down her cheek, or maybe it was blood. She didn’t know. She stood there, watching the solemn face etched on the Weirwood, silently asking it for strength.

Once again, she felt his hands on her shoulder, but this time she didn’t stiffen, this time her shoulders sagged as a sob escaped her lips. She didn’t know if he turned her or she turned on her own accord. She didn’t know if he pulled her closer or if she had just walked into his arms. The only thing she knew was that she was embracing him, her face pressed against his chest as silent tears overtook her. He didn’t say anything. There were no soft words, no soothing murmurs, nothing. Just his arms around her; holding her even closer, even tighter; she could hear his heart thundering in his chest. She placed her hand on his chest above his beating heart. Letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe her.

“We are alive, Arya.” His voice barely over a whisper. “We are alive.”

She closed her eyes. But not everyone was. They had lost so many good men and women. So many children-

“No.” He pulled back slightly just so he could look at her. Her hand was still against his chest. “Don’t. We will not let their sacrifice go in vain.”

She closed her eyes, once again, letting the feel of his heart beating soothe her.

“Let Sam look at you.” He gently cupped her face, trying his best not to touch her wound.

She nodded, and with one final brush of his thumb against her cheek, he dropped his hand. He placed his hand over hers, which was still on his chest. Gently lowering it. Her mind was screaming in protest. Didn’t he understand that she needed this, needed something to know that they were here, needed him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Arya.” He said softly. “I’ll always be by your side.”

“Always?” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears.

“Always.”

**III**

The first thing she wanted to after returning was to see her parents, but as soon as she neared the crypts her feet, on their own accord, turned towards the Godswood. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was the only place she was sure she could feel them. Talk to them. Godswood maybe the only place where she felt closest to her parents.

“We’re back.” She said to the almost bare Godswood. Only a few trees remained, the Weirwood stood tall and proud, and she felt her eyes prickle with unshed tears. “We’re home.”

The leaves of the Weirwood rustled, and she could almost hear her name in the rustle of the leaves. She felt a single tear escape her lids, another whisper and it almost felt like they were trying to soothe her. Like they were trying to embrace her.

She stiffened when she heard footsteps approaching her. But relaxed when she realized who it was. A quiet wind blew through the Godswood again, and she could have sworn it sounded very close to ‘Gendry,’ as he drew near her.

She waited for him to speak, at the same time she didn’t want him to say anything. She just wanted to lose herself in the quiet peace the Godswood offered her. Just wanted to feel closer to her parents, and, despite being at Winterfell, feel closer to home. The home which she had yearned to be back in.

He said nothing, just stood beside her giving her all the support she needed. After a moment, his hand slipped into hers. A sudden warmth started to spread through where their hands met, lighting every inch of her with hope and something… something else. And somehow, she knew that everything was going to be fine. That they were going to be fine. They were home now.

**IV**

It has been a fortnight since they returned to Winterfell. They must have lost many battles, but in the end, they won the war. The cost was high, but with war it always was. So many lives lost, so many homes destroyed but they were here, they were the ones standing not the Night King and his army.

Every day, ever since they came back to Winterfell, the first thing she did was visit the Godswood. It had become a sort of a ritual for her. She remembered the joy that ran through her when she saw that the Godswood was still standing. It wasn’t as magnificent as before, but she saw the new buds rising from the ground, and some had already grown a significantly and all this somehow made it even more beautiful. She smiled looking at the Weirwood, which stood the test of fire and ice and was still standing proud breathing new life to the Godswood.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. A gentle breeze blew through the Godswood, and it felt like the old gods were welcoming her, welcoming them back. The slight murmur of the leaves made it feel like someone was whispering. If she listened closely, she could almost hear her parents calling her name.

“Arya.” His voice stirred something warm in her. Something that made her want to smile. Earlier, it would have scared her, someone holding so much of her soul but not now. Now, it just felt… liberating. Like finally she had someone to share all the dreams and nightmares with, to share everything from happiness to sadness, to share everything and nothing.

“Hmm.” She hummed, she heard him drawing closer. With every step he took her heart seemed to pick up its pace.

“Lady Sansa is looking for you.” He said taking a seat beside her. It was still cold, not colder than it had been a few moon’s turn ago, not as cold as the day Winterfell burned. She bit back a smile when she saw his nose scrunch as his back made contact with the cold ground. He didn’t like the cold much, though he would never say it to her; he was a man who spent most his life near the fire after all. There was a scar on his head from the battle, it seemed to be healing properly. Her gaze lowered to his eyes and, for a moment, she forgot to breath. He truly had the most mesmerizing eyes, blue like the deepest of oceans. Blue like the sky after a storm. She didn’t realize she had been staring until those blue eyes, which she was so close to waxing poetic about, were focussed on her.

“What for?” She asked, looking away. She felt the brush creep up her neck.

He shrugged. “Most likely the feast Winterfell is about to host.”

Arya groaned. “Seems stupid. We still haven’t finished rebuilding. There is so much work to be done, and we are spending time on feasts. Why?!”

Gendry chuckled. “Maybe after fighting the dead everyone wants to appreciate the living.”

“There are better ways to appreciate the living,” Arya grumbled as she remembered the promise that she made to Sansa that she would wear a dress.

“And what would those ways be, M’lady?” He asked, his low voice making her shiver.

Her heart skipped a beat when she looked at him. There was an amused smile playing on his lips; his gaze a little darker than it had been a few moments back. She tried to look away but found that she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. There was something about the way he was looking at her that made her stomach clench, that made her heart flutter. She wanted to move closer to his warmth. She wanted to press her lips against hi-

“I should go.” She stood up suddenly, putting a stop to her treacherous thoughts. “Sansa must be looking for me.”

“Yes,” Gendry cleared his throat. “She must be.”

 

**V**

Her heart hammered in her chest as she neared the Godswood. The feel of his fingers on her cheeks; the feel of his warm body near her; the way he said her name as they drew closer. No. She wasn’t going to think about it. Nothing happened. It was the wine nothing else. It was the stupid wine and stupid Gendry and his stupid face. But the thing was, she hadn’t had any wine, and she knew Gendry doesn’t drink.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. But it was futile. Instead of calming her all it did was remind her how good it felt when he moved closer to her. When his lips were a breath away from hers. Not a moment more, and she would have found out if his lips were as soft as they were in her dreams. If he would kiss her gently or with a passion that would devour them. But then Jon and Ser Davos had walked in. And they had jumped apart and now here she was, in the Godswood, going through every single moment of their relation- friendship that led them to this moment.

She knew things were changing between them. Knew it the day she saw him again, but it was always unnamed, always just out of reach. She truly found out how she felt when she almost lost him. The thought of losing Gendry, even now she couldn’t think about it without feeling like someone was trying to carve her heart out of her chest, was incomprehensible. She tried to tell herself that he didn’t feel the same way about her, but she would be lying to herself. She saw the love in his eyes. Felt it every time they were near each other. Felt the tug of her heart towards his whenever their eyes met. And she had accepted it, and it was liberating, it was scary.

“Arya.” She almost jumped. She had been so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t hear him.

He sighed when she didn’t reply. She realized she had been holding her breath, waiting for him to say something. But he didn’t. He simply moved closer and slid to the ground beside her. She hadn’t realized when she had sat on the ground, her back resting on the Weirwood.

She felt the gooseprickle rise when his hand brushed against her.

“Are we going to talk about what was about to happen in the forge?” Gendry asked, finally breaking the silence.

“No.” She replied looking at their reflection in the pool. He was looking at her with so much love, and slight frustration at her no, that she wanted to laugh. “because nothing happened.”

Gendry sighed again. “You’re right. Nothing happened.”

She didn’t know why but hearing him say ‘nothing happened’ made her stiffen.

“But something was about to.” Gendry continued.

Arya’s heart soared in her chest as, once again, the familiar warmth seemed to pulse through her.

“I know I should have said this- “

Happiness bloomed inside, filling every inch of her with such pure light that she felt like she could fly. “I know.”

He gulped. “You do?”

Her heart was racing. Her voice was barely over a whisper when she replied. “I do.” Then without even a second thought, she added. “Because I do too.”

It felt as if everything stopped the moment the words escaped her lips. The silence was deafening, and she could hear her heart pounding.

“Arya,” His voice was low, urgent. “Look at me.”

She turned towards him but didn’t meet his eyes. Scared that she wouldn’t see what she wanted to. Scared that she would.

His fingers caressed her cheeks and she closed her eyes. His palm cupped her cheeks as her thumb continued to caress her, and she leaned towards the warmth of his touch. His hand drifted lower; she held her breath in anticipation.

He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger with such gentleness that she wanted to cry. He was closer now, she could feel his warm breath ghosting over her skin.

“Arya.” He whispered her name like a prayer.

Her eyes fluttered open. His eyes met hers and, in that moment, she forgot anything existed. It was only them. He gently tilted her face up towards him as the other trailed from her arm to her neck to her hair.

“You’re so beautiful. “He said as he drew even closer; his lips only a breath apart.

Then his lips were against hers, it was the sweetest of kiss that made her sigh. He pulled back, looked at her through hooded eyes. Her lips tingled, and she wanted to do it again. She wanted to do it forever. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and his lips were against her once again. It wasn’t chaste like the first time, this time it was firmer, making her shiver as a delicious heat ran through her. He drew back again, and she whined. Chuckling, he nuzzled her nose. It was then that she realized that she was almost on his lap, and one of her hand was in his hair, and the other was around his shoulder.  One of his arms was around her waist, holding her close, and the other at the nape of her neck. Her eyes met his and the desire she felt in her veins was reflected in his beautiful eyes. The heat that had been slowly burning inside her all night long finally reached its crescendo when his lips met hers again. As they lost themselves into each other she knew she was truly home.

**Author's Note:**

> So what do you guys think?  
> Officially my last reunion fic till the Season premiere. Maybe later I'll write a book reunion fic. I know I never say this enough but you guys are so freaking awesome!! I love you all ❤  
> I hope you like it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3


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